St. Paul daily globe., 1887-08-22
AS HE HAD LIVED.
The Grand Wind-Up of a Mighty
Hunter.
ssThe Great Spirit Gave Him Life
and Took 1t Away"
NJ. Quad in Detroit Free Press.

NJ Quad in Detroit Free Press.
Day has finally broken, and there is q
,reddening of the eastern sky. The faint
-tiushes deepen. the purple fades to gold,
the gold turns to fire and the tOpmOsi
vim of the sun rises from the plain and
Furnishes the cragS and peaks OF the
Powder River mountains as If preparing
them for temples of worship.
Il Five minutes later and great cOnti-
inent is beamed upon by the full sun OF
a glorious morning in Indian summer.
, You have seen grand old horSe-al-
most blind, almost ready to die from Old
nge-rise from his grassy bed OF sum
-mer morning? The morn seemed to put
new life into him. There is fire in his
eyes as he filings his head about and
shifts the sunshine, and for the moment
he is young and strong again.
So on this morn, from his camp in the
foothills, rises grand old man, and, as
he draws himself up to his full height
and faces the glOrions east, his eyes grow
bright, his muscles quiver, and the
strength comes back to every limb. But
it is not for long. The sun is scarcely a
foot above the plain when the tall form
StoOps, the limbs begin to weaken, and
the fire dies out of the eyes and is re-
placed by a aduil STARE.
1t is the wreck of mana mighty
hunter and fighter. These plains and
mountains and valleys have been his
home for score OF years. FaceVchest
limbs everywhere about him, are
scars of wounds dealt by savage or
beast. The going down of the sun has
found him alone; the dawn of day has
found him solitary. Break mans
heart and he turns from the world and
hates vice and virtue alike.
He is old and his strength has waned.
Death has been long in coming, but it
has drawn nigh at last. The chill of
death drives some men back to the
world. to die with tender hands about
them. Others defy the grim monster to
the last, and they die alone, unwept,
uncared for.
alt is my last day on earthn' So says
the grand old man as he slowly turns on
his heel to look about him. The vision
that could once discern moving buf-
falo half a score of miles away, can now
scarcely make out the ragged trees
across the little valley. The arms which
could have once lifted the most power
full warrior high in the air for a dash to
death, can now scarcely bring the rifle
to an aim. He has lun his race and his
time has come.
The sun climbs up and up, and the
day bursts forth into full strength. The
mountains stand out with such rugged
ness and grandneSS as never before.
The valleys and hhiSideS never held
the sunshine as to-day. Nature is to
give the old man grand funeral.
And the sun climbs higher. and it is
midday.
And how should he die-one whose
summers and winterS-whoSe months
and years-have been passed in the sum
shine of the sterile plains-in the shad-
owS of the rugged mOuntainS-with the
grOwl of the grizzly and the shout Of
the red warrior in his ears? In the
dramas of the stage men die as they
have lived; why not in real life?
The old man is ready. Rife in hand
his grizzly locks half hidden by his
fur cap-hiS strength coming back as if
Ale had been born again, he seats him
self upon a great rock and scans the
winding valley at his feet. God gives
rhim back his sight once more, and no
creeping thing escapes his vision. TO
,the right all is well. To the left--wait. !.
He half rises for better look.
u EnemieS-warriOrS!
y Have they got the word that to-day is
u .
they to sit in front and applaud as the
curtain goes down? 1t is well. That
long rifle has sent more than one war
Eior to his death. That great frame,
now so rapidly wasting, bears the scar
of bullet and tomahawk and knife.
! A dozen warriors-a war party bent
on rapine and muTder-came gallOping
swiftly up the valley. The old fighter
grows young in years as he watches the
advance. The thrill of excitement
brought the blood to his cheek-the
whisper of danger strings every nerve.
Fate has been kind to him: as he has
lived so shall he die. Would you have
the hero of dozen battles die in his
bed, alone and unseen, or in front of his
foes, fighting gallantly to the last, and
his death applauded even by those who
slew him?
All. they have caught sight of him.
The gaunt figure outlined against the
sky is a familiar one. 1t has been feared
for its strength, hated for the deStruc-
ton it has wrought Escape is cut off
to the right-tO the left-in front. The
background is rugged hillside, on which
the warriors are mOre.at home than the
hunter. And so shouts of defiance and
eXultatiOn fill the air as the warriors dis
mount and advance.
Make ready nowl The drama of life
is near its close. The life. and strength
which excitement brought are beginning
to die away. Their shouts come family
to his ears; there is blur before his
eyes; the haudS which hold the rifle
tremble with weakness. Death is
sweeping up from the valley in its war
plumeS-death is creeping down from
the hillside with its swift step but in
visible form.
And now the shouts of the warriors
are nearer and louder, and their rifles
are blazing death at the hunter, and he
turns his face to heaven and pleads:
"a few last seconds of strength and
sight and | am ready to gO!"
They are given him-his eyes clear
his form grows erect-he is the grand
old fighter once more. Up comes the
rifie-up-up-hiS eye covers the sights
the weapon is held as firm as a rock,
and when the red flame leaps out a chief
filings up his arms and utters his death
cry.
The drama has ended and the curtain
has gone down. The warriors creep
nearer and nearer. They wonder and
are mystified. They finally reach the
rock to find the old man lying dead, his
face upturned to the sun, whose rising
will see him no more. There is no
blood-no wound. They gather about
him like children about mystery, and
they whisper to each other:
''It was not for us to Slay him. The
Great Spirit gave him his life, and the